I'm off to do a little detective business on my own account, in the neighborhood of the Regent's Park.

Ta--ta, sergeant, ta--ta!" With those words he took himself out of the way, which was exactly what I wanted him to do.
As soon as the maid-servant had shut the door, I told her to inform her master that I wanted to say a word to him in private.

She showed me into the parlor behind the shop, and there was Mr.Yatman all alone, reading the newspaper.
"About this matter of the robbery, sir," says I.
He cut me short, peevishly enough, being naturally a poor, weak, womanish sort of man.
"Yes, yes, I know," says he.

"You have come to tell me that your wonderfully clever man, who has bored holes in my second floor partition, has made a mistake, and is off the scent of the scoundrel who has stolen my money." "Yes, sir," says I."That _is_ one of the things I came to tell you.

But I have got something else to say besides that." "Can you tell me who the thief is ?" says he, more pettish than ever.
"Yes, sir," says I, "I think I can." He put down the newspaper, and began to look rather anxious and frightened.
"Not my shopman ?" says he.